


Nice Thursday

by Arsoemon



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Feels bad man, Gen, How my day went, No Plot/Plotless, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsoemon/pseuds/Arsoemon
Summary: I’m 100% projecting onto this fictional character to cope. Thanks.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Nice Thursday

The day started well enough. Akira was awake just before his first alarm sounded and, instead of going back to sleep for that last 15 minutes, went ahead and started getting dressed for the day.

He spoke briefly with Yusuke in the kitchen before heading out for the day, noting how much earlier he’d be with leaving at this time.

The drive was pleasant, quick, uneventful. He backed the car into his usual parking space perfectly first try. He wished the two people he passed on the way in a good morning, sat at his desk and found no new emails awaiting him. First task going smoothly, good music in his headphones. Today will be a nice Thursday.

His heart’s beating a bit faster than usual, and he’s not excited about anything. Then the nerves kick in. Someone has taken his lungs and squeezed all the air out leaving them crumpled and operating at half capacity. A drop of water hits his desk. Is he crying? Why? He’s not sad, today is supposed to be a good day, it _is_ a good day so far. Nothing is going on, his boss hasn’t even asked him to do yet another thing. This is as calm as the workload has been for the past two weeks. What the hell is going on.

He takes inventory of all areas of his life. Job’s okay for now; he’s had a bit of congestion for a little while now, but that’s not even bad enough to consider himself sick. His friends and Sojiro are all just fine, no accidents on his way in. It’s a little overcast today, but the forecast shows at most 40% chance of rain, no storms. He’s got a couple things to take care of at home, but they’re minor—just usual chores. _What is this feeling for?!_

_What is this feeling at all?_ He feels an irrational need to escape. But what? Is something happening? Is his intuition trying to save him from some unforeseen disaster? Nothing that could explain why he has such an aversion to being here in this place in this moment comes to mind.

He types out a text.

_Hey does that medicine have any weird side effects?_

His hands are shaking, they’re usually so steady. His leg too refuses to be still, he’s chewing the skin off his bottom lip. His phone dings.

_Like what?_ Sojiro responds. 

_I’m just anxious all of a sudden_

  
  
What feels like an eternity is actually just two minutes, if his message app is to be believed.

_Yeah, it can do that. Stay hydrated._

The tears are still soaking his face for no known reason, his limbs still won’t be still, but he gets back to work and tries his hardest to focus. His phone dings again.

_Maybe you should leave sick_ Sojiro suggests.

_I’m not sure how_ Akira feels stupid even before hitting send. Of course he knows how. Just ask and then walk out, but the part of his brain that came up with that “oh so simple” process isn’t the one in control now.

_Tell them you feel really bad. Headache, ears hurt, congestion... sinus issues_ Akira considers this just as another text comes through.

_You tried but you just feel bad_

Akira continues to gnaw on his lip, feeling the sting of where it split in the middle. He’s practically choking on his stifled sobs as he shoots an apologetic text to his supervisor, requesting the rest of the day and tomorrow off. His leg’s still bouncing under the desk, his vision still blurry as he tries to keep typing so he doesn’t get too behind in the event they say no. As he feels his soaked mask starting to stick to his face, he certainly hopes they don’t.

_That’s fine. I hope you feel better soon_

It’s rare for him to ask to leave for illness. There are plenty of days when he should, but he works through the discomfort and just takes it easy for the four-ish hours he gets to himself before bed that evening. On the rare occasion when he does ask to leave, there’s a rush of relief and a hint of guilt. Those are the days when he knows he still hadn’t reached his limit.

Today is not one of those days. He grabs his jacket and umbrella and all but runs to the car.

After his phone is connected via aux, he’s out of the parking lot. The drive is even better than the trip in. Fewer cars on the road, he catches mostly green lights, no one tailgating. But his hands are still shaking. He only vaguely hears the songs on his playlist until one he likes well enough but rarely listens to comes on. He sings along to the chorus and restarts the song with 12 seconds left.

He’s feeling a little better. And then the tears start again. Why is he like this?! He sings along for a few more bars and breaks down again. Surely he’s lost it this time, and the worst part is he doesn’t even know why.

He’s in the home stretch, just a few minutes left, and a semi turns onto the same street. Great. It’s fine. He’s moving slower but that’s okay. They’re just off to a slow start, and look, he even made this green light, too. He takes as deep a breath as he can and floors it, passing the truck in front of him and the one in front of that one. Just two turns left until he’s home.

He parks without issue, makes the relatively short walk to the door, and hurries in.

“Oh! You’re home early,” Yusuke turns to greet him. “Is everything okay? What’s happened?”

“Sorry!” Akira covers his face. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I’m sorry.” He allows himself to be held and clings to Yusuke’s shirt as the taller man gently runs his fingers through his hair. It’ll probably be hours before he’s completely calm again, but at least he can breathe just a bit better.


End file.
